The crisp morning air rolled off the surrounding mountains of Bristol, Tennessee, exposing the frenetic activity of the ground below. Situated between the grand stadium and the tower of the drag strip was a parking lot slowly filling with precious jewels from a past automotive era. Condensation settled on row after row of vehicles–all cars of intrigue, cars of rarity, cars overindulged with love and care.

Vapor steamed out of the proud owners’ mouths as they squinted into the glow of dawn and stared down the arriving competition. Shoulders burned under the blue sky as the owners polished up their most prized possessions. Each body panel was carefully cleaned, each seam in the body line was meticulously detailed, every corner was wiped and smoothed, and the day of judging was now underway.

While some drivers preferred to trailer their rides, most cars were driven to the show. The area was arranged in long rows broken down by the Year One catalog lines. All the Chevelles were stretched off into distance on the first row, followed by Mopars, then Buicks, Olds, Firebirds, Goats, Novas and Chevy IIs, Camaros, Impalas, Chevy/GMC trucks, early Mustangs, late-model F-bodies, Impalas, G-bodies, Mustangs and finally all other miscellaneous vehicles closed out the group. The choices and styles of the cars were varied–from pure stock classics to eye-watering chrome show stoppers to sleeper beauties.

The car show area was nearly full by noon. Gawkers, admirers, envious adversaries, and a slew of photographers thronged the scene and congregated around the cars like ants to a dropped lollipop. Stories of restorations, of memories, of disappointments, and future plans filled the air surrounding the show. Flashbulbs popped off of chrome moldings, cameramen dodged their shadows in the shiny, thick layers of polished paint, and passers-by stared and dreamed in the flurry of the field. A DJ turned on the tunes as people milled about, later giving out prizes and conducting an exhaust system contest to see who had the loudest decibels emitting from the tail pipes.

What attracted people to this event? The easy answer is cars. But it is so much more than just automobiles. By themselves they are just fastened pieces of steel with an engine, some glass, chrome, and rubber. They can be stunningly beautiful, but these are not immovable artwork representations; at some point these vehicles were meant to be driven, and usually with much gusto. To Year One, the sponsor of Bristol Bash, and to most of the people in attendance, the car show was much more than just a display of automobiles. It was a culmination of pride, hard work, loving care, a general commonness, a memorable phase of life, or simply a completed project. They are an extension of the owners’ abilities to maintain and pamper their rides. They are a stalwart hold-out against time and age, resisting rust, weather, malfunctions, and accidents with the persistent gentle shaping of a human hand.

The spirit within the cars and hearts of the car show participants burns white-hot, lingering long after the show, long after the fun and festivities, long after the swapping of stories and companionship. It is this enduring spirit that keeps the automotive hobby alive, lending itself to future generations and evolving what can be defined as a show winner.

Written by Mark Britt